


The Servo

by Gumnut



Series: Tales of Sotto Voce [11]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 10:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21251984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/pseuds/Gumnut
Summary: Virgil ventures out of the house during his recovery. It may not have been a good idea.





	The Servo

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know whether this is going anywhere or even if it will become part of the main story – it may be rewritten later. I just pulled over to the side of the road and wrote. This is what came out. I hope you enjoy it anyway. Very much unfinished at this point.

He drew attention from the moment he pulled up at our servo. Now I know those people over in Cairns might be used to that kind of car, but we certainly aren’t. It was metallic green and it shimmered in the afternoon sun. For a bit I thought he might be lost, but he jumped out of the car looking happy enough.

He stood there for a moment, apparently staring at his car, but the laugh that burst from him led me to realise that there was someone else with him.

That someone else turned out to be a shorter man, sun bleached and smiling just as much as his darker haired companion. It was at that point I realised that the Lamborghini, because, yes, it was a green Lamborghini and very nicely decked out one at that, was left hand drive and had obviously been imported from somewhere far from here.

The shorter man jumped out of the driver’s seat and waved the first man into our little one stop shop. He then proceeded to pump petrol into the car.

He was a good looking man, I can tell you that. Hair a little scruffy and stubble that read style more than neglect. He wore a pair of sunnies that spoke cool, calm and certainly not short of cash. He was simply dressed, but he walked with poise and I had no doubt that he sported some nice eye candy under that flannel shirt.

Actually, come to think of it, the flannel was odd. We do live in the semi-arid tropics. It wasn’t like he would need to keep warm.

When he reached the door, though, all that fell away from him. He hesitated. His hand reached for the door, but pulled back, almost as if he was afraid.

Now I know our one horse town, shanty servo wasn’t much to look at, and is certainly far from those swish On The Go outlets you get in the larger towns, but I like to think we are friendly to local, tourist and truckie alike.

He took a step back and his shoulders dropped.

I was about to walk around the counter and go and speak to him, ask him if he needed help, but then he started talking to himself.

I could just hear him. His voice was soft and a little worried. It sounded like he was attempting to talk himself into opening the door. He blinked and flinched at least twice and he went from confident to almost frail in seconds.

I hurried out to the door and opened it slowly. “Sir, can I help you?”

He startled, but seemed to get a hold of himself. “Uh, um, we’re just getting gas. Do you have any soda for sale?”

Definitely American. We get a few of those around here from time to time, mostly tourists, but occasionally business people travelling between cities.

“Sure, luv, come in. We’ve got the usual Coke, Fanta, juices, water, all up the back there.” I pointed in the direction of the fridges. “Do you have a preference?”

“Coffee?”

“No coffee!” The shout came from the car where the other man was finishing up with the petrol cap in one hand. “Virgil, I told you, no coffee!”

‘Virgil’ rolled his eyes. “Coke it is then.”

I smiled at him. “I’ll grab you a couple.”

I hurried up the back and pulled out two 600ml bottles and brought them around to the cash register.

Virgil was still standing in the door.

“Sir?”

Again, he startled as if he had been miles away. “Oh, I’m sorry. Um, Gordon is just finishing up with the car, he’ll be in with the card in a moment.” And he turned to look at the shelves, apparently browsing, but he obviously wasn’t.

It was so odd. He was definitely a rich man, healthy looking, though admittedly, I couldn’t see behind his sunglasses. One minute happy and confident, the next frightened and vulnerable.

And talking to himself.

He was at it again.

But then it occurred to me that maybe he wasn’t talking to himself, maybe he had a pair of earbuds in and he was talking on his phone. I couldn’t see any, but there were always new fangled things coming out.

“Eos, that’s not funny!”

It was my turn to jump. He wasn’t angry, more frustrated, but he was shouting it at, well, no one.

Phone, he has a phone in his pocket, Ella, calm down.

“Well, you’re the one bugging me.” His frown was enough to split his face in two.

‘Gordon’ chose that moment to bounce in through the doors and clap a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “You’re talking to yourself again.”

“What?” Virgil blinked, stared at me for a second and looked away. “Shit.”

“I should never have bought you that phone.” Gordon smiled at him and I admit, I felt some relief.

Virgil darted another glance at me and to my surprise that vulnerability and fear was back. It was horrible to see a confident man so stricken over something so simple.

Gordon squeezed his shoulder and stepped away, pulling a very fancy credit card out of his wallet.

Perhaps they would have paid their bill and driven off and I would have been none the wiser to who they were, but at that moment a semi pulled into the driveway.

This was nothing unusual. Semi-trailers are a mainstay of our custom. Except this one didn’t slow down.

It didn’t stop.

It ploughed right through our front door.

-o-o-o-

TBC?


End file.
